


reconciling for the unknown

by dykonic_fic



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: I like them and I think they were exes, M/M, the eve of the unknown, yarnmouth bnb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykonic_fic/pseuds/dykonic_fic
Summary: On what might be their last night alive, Jon and Tim share a cheap room in a tacky BnB. There's so much to say, and the weight of it is oppressive. They can deal with it.
Relationships: JonTim, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	reconciling for the unknown

On what might be Jon’s last night on Earth, the minutes were ticking by and he was willing them away. Each second was spent patiently waiting for the next, and the next, so that the morning might start cleanly, and simply, and so he might go to the Unknowing unscathed. If Jon could while away the long hours of the night in silence, he might leave all the scathing for tomorrow.

He couldn’t sleep, either. His eyes wouldn’t shut. He stared ahead, at the blank wall and not at the single bed parallel to his own, or the man sleeping under the covers. He was only a few feet away. Almost close enough to reach out to, far enough away that Tim could be on the other side of the world, or closed behind a thick screen.

Jon could still feel eyes boring into the back of his head, and he couldn’t be sure if they were Elias’ or Tim’s. His stomach churned.

Or perhaps it was just guilt. The feeling was overpowering, afterall. He could hardly stand to be in the same room as Jon, and yet, Tim was sleeping beside him the night before the end of the world.

_ That wasn’t true. _

Jon resented the knowledge given to him by Beholding. That was likely why it was bestowed upon him. He resented knowing others as much as everyone he knew resented being known. Being known by him, anyway. And the Eye was eager to observe every element of the disruption it caused.

Jon pulled his blankets around him. Was it fair to blame Beholding? Was anyone to blame?

Beholding gave Jon an answer for that. Jon pushed it from his mind, shut his eyes, and took long, deep, dizzying breaths. 

If he was only going to sleep one last time, he wanted it to be the best night’s sleep of his life. He wanted to feel the pleasant waves of exhaustion pull him into that gentle current and take him under. He wanted to catalogue and preserve every moment, because sleeping was one of life’s pleasures, and it was one of the uncomplicated pleasures he was free to enjoy without consequence.

‘Jon?’

Jon’s eyelids sprang open like it was an effort to hold them close.

‘Jon, are you still awake?’

‘Yes, Tim.’

‘Good.’

Jon didn’t know how to speak to Tim anymore, so he didn’t.

His eyes rested open, and he didn’t have the energy to shut them. The ticking from the obnoxious mantlepiece clock rang through the room.

Until Tim spoke again.

‘Jon?’

‘Yes?’

‘Still awake?’

Jon sighed.

‘Evidently.’

‘Great.’

Jon rolled his eyes.

‘We’ve got an early start tomorrow. We should both get some rest.’

Tim made a chirpy affirmative sound, and Jon felt like he’d missed a step on the way down. Typically, when looking for an answer he wanted, Beholding was reticent.

‘Jon?’

‘What do you want, Tim?’

‘Care about that, these days?’

Jon took a deep breath, and refused to engage. He took another, and another, and hoped that Tim might just fall asleep.

‘Jon.’

Finally, Jon turned around in bed to look at Tim and shoot him a look. Tim was already facing him. His eyes stared out at Jon, and he regretted looking immediately. His stare was as unbearable as it was unfathomable, even in the dark.

‘Did your powers tell you?’ Tim goaded.

‘That you wanted me to look at you? No.’

‘Does it know what’s going to happen tomorrow?’

‘It’s called the Unknowing, Tim, clue’s in the name.’

‘So it’s useless, then?’

Jon nodded. ‘Pretty much.’

‘Great. Thank God you’re on our side, then. Really, would hate to be on the wrong end of your… incomplete, fallible knowledge. Oh wait, I already am.’

‘Was that all?’

Tim laughed, quietly and bitterly. Jon closed his eyes against it, and braced himself.

‘No, not even close-’

‘Well tough!’ Jon snapped.

Tim sprang up in bed and turned on the light. Jon resigned himself, but closed his eyes against the brightness. 

‘How dare you?’ Tim asked, and Jon realised the question was earnest. It even deserved an answer.

‘I’m sorry Tim, but we’ve had this out already. Is there anything I can say that will help you? That’ll make what I’ve done okay?’

‘No, of course not-’

‘So, can we please not do this?’

Tim took a deep breath. ‘It’s just not right.’

The voice was so small, and Jon finally broke and looked at him. In the dim yellow light, all the shadows on Tim’s face cut deep into his perfect brow and sunken eyes, and into all the hollows of the scars he shared with Jon. He almost still looked like his friend.

‘It isn’t.’

Tim’s face twisted. ‘No, it isn’t, and you won’t do anything-!’

Sick of Tim looking down on him from where he sat in bed, Jon shot up and looked him in the eye.

‘For God’s sake, what do you want from me?’

His voice rang out. For a moment, it stunned Tim, and before he could stop himself, he looked at the man before him. This man drew his shoulders up tightly, and gripped the bedsheets in tight fists, and brought his knees almost up to his chest. Tension rolled off him in waves, and set Tim’s teeth on edge. He wanted to put an arm around him and smooth him over like a tangled bedspread.

Jon, however, was far too defensive for that now. He was ready to uncurl and get up and give him hell.

Is that what he wanted?

Tim felt his heart break. The pain went through him like an arrow. 

‘I don’t want anything from you.’ He admitted. Jon took it as a rebuke.

‘Do you want me to apologise?’ Jon’s words came out pointed and accusatory in Tim’s ear, and he couldn’t hear the pleading. It put them both closer to the edge they both knew so well.

‘No!’ Tim didn’t know when they’d started yelling. But it almost felt good to yell and be yelled at. It finally felt like Jon understood because Tim had finally made him feel the same way; powerless and finally, finally angry about it.

‘Because I  _ am _ sorry!’ Jon hated defending himself, and Tim heard that hatred loud and clear. 

Tim cracked a smile. The jagged pieces of it could cut Jon, it was so sharp.

‘I’m sure you are.’

Incensed, Jon actually stood up, striding over to Tim like he was going to do anything more than fold like a hand of cards when he reached him. Unless Tim really pushed Jon’s buttons, nothing would come of Jon’s temper.

‘You know, I’m sure you’re sorry about all of it. I’m sure you’re sorry you stalked me, and accused me of murder, and一’

‘Stop it!’

‘Why?’

‘Because I am. I一 I一I’m just sorry. It was wrong, and I shouldn’t have, and I regret it. What else is there?’

Jon was still standing there, in front of him. For an absurd moment, Tim thought he might get on his knees. It was something in the pleading look in his eyes, something in the anxious way Jon clasped his hands together and twisted them.

‘I’m not over it.’ Tim stated.

‘I know.’

‘I’m not over it, and I’m never going to be over it, and you’re the last person alive that knew me before my life went to hell-’

‘So are you!’ Jon roared. ‘For God’s sake Tim!’

‘You  _ knew _ I was the last one! I thought Sasha still-’

Jon’s eyes widened, and his jaw set. ‘I didn’t know that. Not… not when I was… when I was throwing around accusations. Tim, it wasn’t _ personal _ , I thought everyone was out to-’

‘Don’t lie to me.’ Tim hissed.

‘Wh- what?’

‘It was personal, Jon. Don’t even try-'

‘Okay it was personal!’ Jon was choked, and he had to breathe. Tim leaned back, his eyes hot and daring Jon to explain.

‘Because it would have felt right, you know?’

Tim barked a laugh. ‘Are you  _ kidding _ me?’

Jon shook his head earnestly.

‘It would have felt right… you were… we were actual friends. I knew that me and Sasha were friends, but… I don’t remember what that was like. I don’t even know what we were like together…’

He swiped at his face, and looked out of the dark window beside him. Tim didn’t move his gaze off him.

‘But you?’ Jon’s smile was blistering to Tim. It ached to see something once held dear now hurt so badly. 

‘Of course you were the killer, of course you were after me the whole time, it would… make more sense that this is how you really were, and before was just… a ploy.’

‘You thought… you  _ seriously _ thought… that?’

Jon nodded.

‘Why?’

‘Because… because it was the worst thing I could think of, to be honest.’

Tim sagged. He tried to rekindle the anger, that reliable flame. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

Jon laughed. A hopeless sound. More like a breathless whimper.

‘Do you really think you’d have wanted to hear it?’

‘Do you think I wanted to  _ now _ ?’

Jon dropped his gaze. It was like his strings were cut, or he’d been winded, stabbed through the middle and gutted. Tim sighed, and all that fire was extinguished.

He patted the space next to him on his bed. ‘C’mere.’

Jon sat, vacant. Just as hollowed out, Tim rested his head on Jon’s shoulder.

They were both thinking about when they’d been closer. Tim’s hand was still on the bed where he’d gestured Jon to sit. Jon put his hand on top of it. It was his burned hand. Just another horrific incident no one had told Tim about until it was far too late to care.

‘You remember the first time I kissed you?’ Tim ventured. Jon’s smile looked stolen from him, from a younger man, one Tim used to know, back in the day.

‘I couldn’t believe you were serious.’ He reminisced.

‘Hah. So you never could really believe me.’

Jon’s smile emptied, slid off his face and left it looking robbed of something pretty. Tim felt bad, but this is exactly what he meant. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay with it. He refused to deny his feelings on what might be the last night of his life.

He wouldn’t deny any of his feelings.

He kissed Jon on the cheek. It was tentative. It wasn’t demanding. It could be the end. Jon could get up and go back to his own bed, and they’d both feel better for a talk, a shout, and a sweet kiss goodnight, maybe goodbye.

Jon turned to look at him, and Tim smiled. It was good to see him again.

‘Missed you.’ It slipped out before he could stop it, and he didn’t care to repress the words. They hung in the air.

Jon leaned in all at once, and they were kissing. It wasn’t exploratory, they’d had those kisses. It wasn’t passionate, they’d shouted all passion away. It wasn’t the same. It was something new.

After all those years of knowing each other, after all those years of not knowing, there was still kissing like this, like separated lovers, like new lovers, like the oldest lovers on earth.  They broke apart like halves, Jon held them close and Tim held on.

‘You can’t forgive me,’ Jon started.

‘No.’ Tim reaffirmed. He kissed Jon’s lips again, and Jon’s eyelids fluttered closed, before he pulled away again.

Tim didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t face more words between them. But he listened.

‘You can’t forgive me, but do you think it could be okay?’

Tim sighed, and slid further into Jon’s lap. He placed his head over Jon’s heart and listened to it jump.

‘Forgiving you would mean saying it was okay, that it was fine you did those things to me, that it was fine I left you when you needed me, that it was fine I missed out on you even when… I missed you more than anyone, sometimes. Because you were still there to miss, and I still just pushed you away instead.’

Jon wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist, and he placed a butterfly kiss on Jon’s jaw, the most he could get of him without moving away, and he wanted to stay, just for a moment more.

‘So I can’t forgive, I just can’t. It wasn’t and won’t be okay, but… well, I guess it all depends on tomorrow, anyway.’

Jon tugged him up to kiss him, and the friction shot through both their bodies.

‘That’s… you’re right, it’s all on tomorrow. But…’

They both thought on that tantalizing possibility of something. It might not be ‘okay’, it would never be ‘forgiveness,’ probably, but there was something. Something better. But it was all on tomorrow’s luck, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> yeh and then Tim lived and they had an emotionally fulfilling romantic friendship and Martin was there and the three of them were terribly in love. good thing Sasha's around too and also in love and it's a very pleasant show all round rlly.


End file.
